Mummy's play
by Cybertronprincess
Summary: Cling clang go the chains, there's no more time for fear! Cling clang go the chains, the last sound that you'll hear, Amumu.


**Inspired by Lilypichu's song "Mummy's play". Obviously. Damn creepy, and very inspiring.**

* * *

_Where are my eyes? __  
__Where is my bear? __  
__Why is this place __  
__full of despair? _

It'd been two or so months since Annie and Amumu had been seen. Speculation was that the two had ran away together, caught in some childish delusion of romance. The media had gone berserk over this idea, which the Institute of War didn't appreciate when Annie's parents arrived, demanding to know where their little girl was. But no one knew, even with hundreds of search parties combing Valoran, no one could find the little girl and undead Yordle.

At first, the other Champions of the League weren't worried; both children were fearsome warriors. They knew that better than anyone and had all assumed the two were merely playing some game of Hide-and-Seek with the adults. But as days became weeks, and weeks became months, the other League members began to worry too.

The League sent out its own Champions to find them, leading massive groups all intent on finding their targets. Even the Noxians deemed it worth their time to help, working side-by-side with the Demacians and everyone thought that was a wonderful sign. Two ancient enemies working together to rescue a pair of children. Such disgusting notions infuriated Swain, but continued to send his forces in search for them.

The only ones who could not care less about Annie and Amumu were those from the Shadow Isles, and those from the Void.

_W__hy do you cry? __  
W__hy is there pain? __  
M__y body can't__  
__leave middle lane _

Despite all the hubbub over the children, League matches were still being held to settle political debates and entertainment. Thresh barely batted a non-existent eye lash at the controversy of holding Pitt fights while kids were missing, and happily marched on through his matches.

It wasn't until one day, when heading towards the enemy base through the Turret devoid mid lane, that the Chain Warden realised why things would be taking a turn for the worst for the League.

He stopped in his tracks, despite his Summoner's annoyed insistence he press on, and stared at the little girl. She had her back to him, standing beside the ruins of a desolated tower, completely still and unnaturally calm. Annie was known for being cheerful, peppy and perky even in the most heated of battles, so even Thresh recognised how odd it was for her to be so inactive.

Stranger still was how his Summoner neglected to notice her there, still pestering him to hurry along.

"Ah," He said aloud. "So that's it, is it?" He walked closer to the pink haired child, then crouched down onto one knee, forearm resting on his thigh, and tilted his ethereal glowing head. "Hello, Annie," He whispered. Her shoulders popped up, having been slack and relaxed, then turned around to face him, smiling. "Oh my, aren't you looking pretty?," Thresh chuckled. Annie's stitched up lips oozed as they struggled with the sutures, eyeless pits in her skull making gurgling, squelching sounds as if she were looking around for the source of his voice. "He truly wanted to be your friend forever, didn't he, dear?" She frowned, looking confused, and he smacked his forehead with the ball of his palm. "Oh, silly me! You have no eyes, you couldn't have seen who it was that killed you, could you?," The Chain Warden chuckled. She shook her head, then hung it miserably. "Just where is your body, Annie?" She pointed over his shoulder, towards a patch of stomped on loose dirt.

_B__lood paints my face, I couldn't see -__  
__Who is killing me?_

From bottom lane, Nasus could quite clearly see Thresh along the Serpentine river, in the clearing at the centre of the forest. The Shadow Isles' minion was bent over, leaning into a brush by the water. At first, the Librarian thought he was checking for enemies, but surely it couldn't have taken that long to search a bush. Out of curiosity, something he and his summoner both currently shared, he waded through the stream until he reached mid lane, peering down at the Chain Warden. "Thresh," He said aloud, clear and firm to catch his attention. The Wraith didn't flinch, he'd already sensed the dog coming, but did pass him a glance over his shoulder.

"What is it Nassy?," He asked in a bubbly, teasing tone. "Is Ezzie stuck at the bottom of a well?" The Curator scowled, clutching his staff tighter at his team mate's impertinence.

"What in the world are you doing?," He hissed, tempted very much to simply kick the Warden in the backside and send him face first into the river. But that would be childish, and he refused to sink to Thresh's level.

"Digging," He replied, as if it were the most obvious thing to do literally in the middle of a battle field. Nasus' nose twitched, only now noticing the scent of freshly churned up mud and ripped pond weeds.

"What for?" Thresh might've smiled at him, if he had lips, then beckoned for him to crouch beside him. The Curator obliged, brushing back the reeds with his staff to see better. The Warden dug his glowing claws into the sodden soil, pushing it back in grimy waves as he shovelled deeper.

_Where are my lips? __  
__Why won't they part? __  
__Why can't I hear__  
__the sound of my heart? _

Darius and Graves glanced at each other, sharing a darkly amused smirk before carefully creeping towards the two enemy Champions. Neither Thresh nor Nasus showed any signs of noticing them, so they assumed they could get the drop on them.

"Like shooting fish in a barrel," Graves whispered as they ducked into a bush when the Curator warily looked around the area, then back to what ever it was the Warden was up to. The Hand of Noxus nodded, then they both clutched their weapons in preparation, when Nasus suddenly leapt to his feet, reeling back with a horrified howl.

"By the sands of Shurima, what _is_ that?!," He shrieked, eyes baring the closest thing to fear anyone had ever seen in them. Both men paused, glancing at each other warily, but decided to remain hidden and watch the Warden, who was laid out fully on his front, thrusting his arms into a sizeable hole in the ground.

"I thought you were one of the ones who was worried for her, Nassy," The Warden muttered, awkwardly getting to his feet with a small bundle in his arms. Graves face blanched and he suddenly covered his mouth to prevent himself from vomiting, and Darius' eyes widened to the size of diner plates. Cradled against Thresh's chest was a mutilated Annie Hastur, caked heavily in mud and blood.

_Darkness is here_

There was a service everyone attended. Her parents wept and howled, her mother accusing Annie's father of this being his fault, letting their little girl join the dangerous League of Legends. Their divorce later that month wasn't much of a surprise.

Lucian considered the small, black marble grave stone by his feet. Engraved in curling, golden letters was written; _In memory of Annie Hastur, The Dark Child. Proud member of the League of Legends. You will be missed._ The Purifier wondered, once the smoke had settled and the parents vanished from public interest, just who would miss the girl. He hadn't known her long, but she had always offered him a smile when she skipped down the hallways with that mummy Yordle friend of hers, teddy bear dangling from her hand.

She was a favourite among the summoners, so maybe they would mourn her. He supposed he'd miss the friendly, innocent face. She was only a child, she hadn't deserved... _that_.

Lucian had obviously been sceptical about Thresh's claim that it had been Amumu who killed her. They'd been something close to best friends; that coupled with the fact he never trusted anything the Warden said or did made him greatly question this suggestion. But somehow, he couldn't bring himself to believe Thresh had done it himself. Members of the Shadow Isles never left bodies behind, let alone buried them deep in the bank of a river.

Or bothered to cut out their eyes. Or sew up their lips.

The Purifier clenched his fist, deciding this was one atrocity he couldn't hold Thresh accountable for. But there were many, many more. How the Warden knew Annie was buried there, he didn't want to know. But he knew the child needed retribution, closure, justice.

A member of the undead had taken the life of a little girl, and Lucian would not let that rest in peace.

_I'll never know just__  
__who is killing me?_

"Are you comfortable in your little wooden box, Annie?" She shook her head, and he wasn't surprised. Coffins may look cushy and cozy, but the dark, claustrophobic confines underground were never pleasant. "I understand. Come along now, I'll take care of you." His lantern raised into the air invitingly, opening its glowing maw. Countless souls cried out to the moon above the forest, but Annie smiled and reached towards it.

With a fiery gulp, the Dark Child was gone, and the Chain Warden's lantern snapped shut as he turned and walked away from the Serpentine river, humming and singing to himself.

"_Cling clang go the chains,  
Someone's out to find you.  
Cling clang oh the chains,  
The Warden's right behind you._

_Quick now, the seeking chains,  
Approach with their shrill scrape.  
Don't stop, flee the chains,  
Your last chance to escape._

_Drag the chains, drag the chains,  
With all the strength you may!  
Drag the chains, drag the chains,  
'ere they drag you away!_

_Cling clang go the chains,  
There's no more time for fear!_

_Cling clang go the chains,  
The last sound that you'll hear, Amumu..."_

* * *

**_Hail to the princess, baby!_**


End file.
